Clarissa Flowers: Private Eye
by singsongyylove
Summary: Clair has noticed that there is something odd going on at PPTH and she's determined to get to the bottom of this case, which she has labeled The Mystery of Huddy. Will she be the first to unravel the secret?
1. New Location

Lord in heaven almighty. Lisa could have told me I was going to need more than my V-neck sweater from Old Navy! Who knew, it's cold in New Jersey! Seems like the other side of the world coming from Georgia. That's right, I moved. I went ahead and did it. Accepted the job she offered. I'm surprised she thinks I'm any good. She's got the best doctors in the world at that crazy hospital of hers. Went in there just a while after I arrived. Of course, I walked in and she stood right there, talking to some young thing who looked too much right out of high school to be a doctor.

"Lisa!" I called. She didn't hear. So I scurried up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She spun on me furiously, but upon seeing that it was just her good ol' childhood friend, she gave me a tight hug and whispered in my ear.

"Clair. I never thought I'd see you again."

"Well," I said in my matter-of-fact voice, "Ya thought wrong. Can't get rid of this one."

She laughed, peeling away from me, signing something or other on that young doctor's clipboard, and leading me to a large office with the words on the door that made me proud to be Lisa's friend.

"Lisa Cuddy, MD, Dean of Medicine"

Who knew my neighbor, one year older than myself, who loved to write in her journal more than anything and could find fun everywhere she went would become the Dean of Medicine at a hospital in Jersey, second youngest ever, first woman ever? Who knew? When I called out of utter surprise at her enrolling in med school, she said very coolly:

"Clair, I wanted to be a doctor since before I hit puberty."

Right. What a lie. I'm sure she saw a commercial for a hospital show two days before and thought, 'Huh. I could do that.' That's just who she used to be. Now she's miss strict-o-matic. What happened to her spontaneity, I'll never know.

We entered the big office and Mr. Man with his stubble sat behind Lisa's desk, sifting though papers.

"House! What are you doing?" Lisa practically screamed.

"_That_'s Greg House?" I asked in wide-eyed wonder. I'd heard about him. In fact, I'd heard more than I really needed to know. He was practically the only thing she talked about. _'Ooh, House made me so mad!' 'House is at it again!' 'House had a date with that Cameron of his!' _So on, so forth.

"Who's that?" he asked Lisa suspiciously, pointing at me.

"Our new head of cardio. Clarissa Flowers," she used my full name instead of Clair. Interesting.

"Dr. Flowers. Cool." He leaned back in the chair.

"House, would you mind-"

"Are you two sisters?" he interrupted.

"What? No. Why?" Lisa responded, utterly confused, and rightfully so, for Lisa and I look nothing alike. Her hair is a dark curly wonder, where mine is straight, thin, and dirty blonde. Her face is defined and elegant (hell, she's gorgeous), where mine would blend into any crowd.

"Oh. I was sure. It's just," he pointed at the both of us with his pen, "you two have matching cleavage."

Lisa sighed.

"House, just get out."

"I need an exploratory surgery," he said simply, handing a file to Lisa.

"This patient was admitted an hour ago; you haven't even given her a second thought yet!"

"I need the surgery."

"So you're just going to poke around at her organs? Just a little fun?"

"I need the surgery."

"No, you don't!" she was really about to explode; he had better watch out.

"Yes! I do!"

"No, you don't! Now, get out of my office!"

"Well, alright Miss Funbags, you don't have to get all finicky about it," he said bitterly, and exited.

"Ain't he a sweetheart," I said as the door closed.

"You have no idea."

"What was he doing in your office?"

"Beats me," she searched her desk for anything missing.

"So, what have you been up to?" I looked more carefully around her cozy looking office.

"This," she motioned to the hospital.

"Thrilling," I replied unenthusiastically.

We both sat, and she smiled at me, a weak and phony attempt to wipe away any of my suspicions about her life. Poor Lisa, I know how she really is. Tired of the same routine, day in, day out. She's lonely. Really lonely. That may be the reason I decided to move here at all. She's just so sad, and she needs a friend so badly. This job is all she has.

"So you're really going to take this job?"

"No, I moved here because I just love the snow!" I laughed.

"Clair, you have no idea how happy I am to see you."

"I know Lisa. I missed you."

I stood up and squeezed her hand.

"I know you have work to do. I'm going to come back later. We'll go out to dinner."

Lisa looked so relieved. Poor darling. Here's the thing you must know; she never lets anyone see her sadness. She's so very lonely, but she always seems so confident that people assume she's just so very social. People assume that she just doesn't have time for the likes of them. Despite the fact that they'd enjoy her company very much, they don't want to invade. People assume that she's just being kind by gracing them with her presence. In truth, she has no one.

And she's such a good person. I've missed her so much.


	2. A Man from Heaven and a Man from Hell

Thanks to all of those who reviewed. Hopefully this is interesting. Yeap... OH! On the first chapter, I forgot to put my lovely disclaimer. So here we go.

Disclaimer: House MD belongs to Fox or someone else who is not me. Basically, none of the characters are mine except for Clair Flowers, who is entirely my own creation.

Hehe. Review pleeeeeeeease!!!

* * *

My first day. Lovely. I've got a bitchin' little office. I hung my Moulin Rouge poster on the wall. You know, head of cardiology- Moulin Rouge is totally relevant. It's all matters of the heart. I went down to the clinic, figuring that since it was apparently part of my duty to get in two hours of clinic time a day, I might as well get it out of the way. But of course, who did I run into? None other than the infamous Dr. House.

"First day and Cuddy has already damned you to clinic duty? I thought she liked you!"

I chose to ignore him.

"Speaking of which, where is our ray of sunshine?"

I looked into her office, finding her absent.

"Late?" I suggested.

"Lisa Cuddy has never been late a day in her life."

I shrugged, picking up the file of Julianne Cox and stalking off to exam room one. I found that unfortunately, I was being followed by a man with a cane. Julianne's sniffles were just going to have to wait.

"You don't know where she is?"

"No. I might be her friend, but I'm certainly not her keeper."

"Haven't talked to her lately? Did she have a date last night?"

"What does it matter to you anyways?"

And what did it matter to him? If Lisa's descriptions were at all accurate, he's the one who spent all day avoiding her, refusing to listen to her, and doing basically anything to piss her off. I hadn't liked this guy before I'd even met him. Why the heck did he want to know where she was anyways?

"Wait, what's today?" He said with sudden realization.

"December third. Why?" I quickly replied.

"Oh," he stretched out the understanding in that one syllable to ten seconds.

"What?"

"It's that time of the month," he gave an exasperated sigh, "In that case, I'm not so sure I'm too eager to find her."

Pause. He knows that it's 'that time of the month'? Hold up.

"Oh. My. God," I gasped slowly, "How do you know that?"

"Are you kidding? You women are so easy to read."

Why does he know when her period is? Oh my God. That's borderline stalker. Wait, no, that's not even borderline. That is stalker. And he seems so curious about her. He wanted to know if she had a date last night? Maybe Lisa didn't tell me everything! She certainly never mentioned such a _keen interest_ in her. I simply looked at him with a dropped jaw, turned on my (brand new!) heels, and high-tailed off to exam room one.

Julianne Cox did not have sniffles, it turns out, she instead had an ache in her abdomen. But before I could ask another question, her examination was rudely interrupted by a…

"Clair! Do you know where House is?" My infamous boss burst into the exam room without a second thought. Now she's curious about him? Oh lordy, what is up with these two?

"No, but he was looking for you."

"He was?" she said, a little too anxiously, "Why?"

"He didn't say. Did you know he tracks your menstrual cycle?"

"Still?" she replied vaguely while glancing at Julianne, who was staring intently at her tennis shoes.

_"Still!__"_ I raged, "Are you aware of how creepy that is?"

"I'll talk to you later," she ignored my question, "I've got to find him," and she shut the door behind her.

I finished tending to Julianne, who I determined had simply been doing a couple hundred too many sit ups in her eagerness to fit into a royal red gown for some sort of gala. I shook her hand, held the door open for her, and raced to Lisa's office, dropping Julianne's folder off at the nurse's station on the way.

"Did you find him?" I asked as shut the door behind my back.

"No, but he'll come around."

"What's the deal with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and House. What's up with that?"

"Nothing."

I stared at her suspiciously for a moment, but once again, before I could ask another question, I was rudely interrupted by a…

"Where's House?" yelled a male voice behind me. I turned to find an angel standing right in front of me. Imagine that, an angel in New Jersey! A strong looking man with sandy brown hair, a charming face, and rather large eyebrows (a fact I was willing to overlook). I could have sworn that I had died and gone to heaven.

"You tell me," even Lisa's voice couldn't break me from the spell of his undeniable attractiveness.

"I tried to page him, but guess where I found his pager! In my pocket!"

"What do you want me to do?"

The man from heaven sighed and shrugged, then looked at me, just now noticing my presence and my blatant stare. He then looked back at Lisa questioningly.

"Oh, sorry. Clair, this is James Wilson. He's head of oncology. This is Clarissa Flowers, the newest head of cardiology."

"Nice to meet you," the person who's name is apparently James Wilson said as he held out his hand. I absently allowed him to shake my hand and mumbled something in reply. He gave me a look before giving Lisa a little wave and leaving the office. I turned to her, completely dumbfounded. Why had she not informed me that she had an angel employed at her hospital?

"Holy," I nearly had to hit myself in the head with my (brand new!) heels to bring myself back down to earth, "who was that?"

"Wilson," Lisa replied slowly and confused, "he's friends with House."

I gave a joking love-struck teenager sigh and put my hand over my heart. Lisa laughed.

"Don't you even think about it."

"Too late."

I couldn't remember why I was in Lisa's office in the first place, so I just left to go collect myself in my nice little office upstairs. Only ten thirty on my first day and I've already met the most beautiful man alive, saved a woman from extensive core body exercises, and detected that my best friend may have a stalker. This job sure is going to be different.


	3. Briefing

This was a quick update. I've already started the next one, which is going to include some interesting stuff about Clair & Cuddy. It's not all that funny, so I tried to make this one funny. Yipeees!

Please review!!

* * *

"He's stalking you!" I yelled as she sauntered into my office, including an odd hand motion which slightly resembled strangling someone, just for effect.

"House?" Lisa asked innocently.

"Of course, House! He interrogates me about you every single morning!" I was near to the boiling point now. He really was more than I imagined. He did anything to aggravate her, his crude comments were _unceasing_, and I swear he knows more about her than I do! What is wrong with this man?

"He's not a stalker. He has an overly curious mind."

"He tracks when your period is. He follows you whenever you have a date. He stole your medical records yesterday! And you're trying to tell me that he's just figuring out one of his little puzzles! Why haven't you fired him? Do you _like_ being stalked?" It was a little bit of a rant, which was replied to simply with a pout and a huff. I had only been working at Princeton-Plainsboro a week, and most of it had been spent introducing myself to every single cardiologist in this hugantic hospital, but if there's one thing I know, I know that Lisa certainly didn't dislike having House around. Oh, the _teasing_. It's almost disgusting.

"He's my friend. I trust him," she huffed, "and you didn't do your clinic hours yesterday!"

And with that, she dashed from the room. I defiantly shut the file I was reading, even though she wasn't there anymore, and clicked off to the elevators. To the clinic I go!

I stood behind the nurses' station, trying to sort out the medical history of Jean Massey, when a strange conversation between the pink-haired nurse simply known as 'Lollipop' and the really short nurse named Suzanne caught my… ear.

"Huddy alert!" whispered Lollipop.

"Where?" replied Suzanne.

"Nine o'clock."

I turned my head. Nothing of any interest was over at 'nine o'clock'. Lisa and House were arguing (typical), and a man was blowing his nose (also typical).

"Huddy?" I stated confusedly.

"Shhhhh!" cried Lollipop.

"House and Cuddy," her cohort continued to whisper, now addressing me.

"What about them?" I looked between the round and eager nurse faces.

"Look at 'em," Lollipop said as though it was the most suspicious thing ever to be arguing, "he's so obviously obsessed with her, and she's so obviously soaking up the attention like a sponge."

"I think they're sleeping together," Suzanne confided.

Who knew nurses could be so observant and… gossipy?

"I wish someone would just figure out what's actually going on with them," Lollipop said with finality, and the two whisked off to their tasks. I first pondered momentarily the insanity in anyone actually wanting to be called Lollipop, and then I proceeded to discover that they were right. Something more was definitely going on with this 'Huddy' nonsense, and someone ought to figure it out. Who better for the job than someone like me? I was an expert on Huddy, and no one could get the inside scoop from Lisa like I could. Not to mention that I now had the backing of two seemingly very knowledgeable nurses, who I'm sure would be more than willing to help if I needed it. And one more thing…

James Wilson, Head of Oncology

I knocked slowly and carefully. I heard what sounded faintly like 'come in'. So I pushed the door open, just to, once again, be shocked by irrefutable perfection. I quickly shook myself out of it though, because I knew that this was first and foremost, an important business matter. A secret mission. A necessary task.

"Dr. Flowers, nice to see you!"

"Call me Clair," I replied quickly, as I waved a hand at his greeting.

"Okay, Clair, what's up?"

"I was wondering," I paused as I made myself comfortable in one of his chairs, "what is the deal with Lisa and House? Do you know?" He looked at me with one fluffy eyebrow cocked for a moment.

"I know them well enough to know that neither of them would admit to there being a 'deal' with them."

"Do they have a history?" I said quietly, even though we were in the safe confines of his office.

"I only know so much," he held up his hands as though he were surrendering.

"But you do know-" I let my voice trail away.

"That you're a very nosy young woman."

"So you don't know?" I accused. He sighed, seeming to wonder if he should say anything.

"I know that House finds Cuddy a very interesting subject," Wilson said diplomatically, "how far that interest goes or how far that interest is reciprocated, I can't say. I also know that someone really should find out."

"I am going to find out," I replied, "I'm going undercover to unveil the mystery of Huddy."

"I think I like you."

"You in?"

"How can I resist? I always wanted to be a secret agent!"


	4. Pretty Neighbors To Go With

This is me NOT writing a history essay! Yipeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! More to come soon! Thanks for reading!

Ongoing disclaimer: Lisa Cuddy, James Wilson, Gregory House, and Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital are not my creations, unlike Clarissa Flowers, who happens to belong to me.

* * *

When I was eight, my dad tactfully decided that it would be best if he moved out before all of our china was broken and shattered on the floor. My mom agreed, so he moved out of our pretty blue house in Sterling Heights, Michigan and drove all the way to Atlanta and rented an apartment. Lisa and I lay in my bed with our faces inches away the night he moved. She told me "It's only Georgia. You'll see him all the time." Then she showed me where Georgia was on a map of the world and I said "Well, I guess it's good he moved to Georgia and not China."

When I was fourteen, Lisa was fifteen. I was a freshman and she was a sophomore. We met outside in between our two front yards and walked to school every day. I had only seen my dad three times since he moved to Atlanta, but I didn't really care. My mom kept on being a lawyer, and I kept on being best friends with Lisa, and Lisa kept on being the happiest girl in the world, so it all worked out. She had already had two boyfriends, and I had had none. But Lisa kept on saying "I'm older than you, don't worry. You're not the only fourteen year old in the world without one." Then one day, we walked back home from school at three, and Lisa's mother was yelling at her father in my front yard, and my mother was there, watching with horror and embarrassment.

Now my life so far sounds like that of a poor tortured soul whose life was full of yelling and unhappiness, but that's not true. It just was a little crazy sometimes.

Well, it turns out that Lisa's father and my mother were more than just friends, which I hadn't expected, Lisa hadn't expected, and Lisa's mother clearly had not expected. So my mother tactfully decided that it'd be best if I moved to Atlanta to live with my father, she moved to Ann Arbor to find herself, and we forgot about our pretty blue house and our pretty neighbors named Cuddy altogether.

Not as easy as it sounds. Even though we certainly wouldn't be able to see each other, Lisa called me all the time and I told her how my dad's kitchen had chickens on the wallpaper and she told me that the people who moved into my pretty blue house had a shiny convertible. My mom never found herself, probably because she wasn't lost in the first place, and decided to open a coffee shop called 'hot shot', and then proceeded to try to convince me that, no, 'hot shot' isn't the cheesiest name ever for a coffee shop.

Lisa and I both spent high school wishing that we could meet secretly and telling each other so over the phone. We both spent college in state, studying and partying our asses off. Then we both spent med school zonked out on top of our textbooks, Starbucks failing to keep us awake long enough. We spent internships, residencies, and job interviews listening to the other say through the crackling of long distance, "I'll drive over there and see you," and then "I've got so much to do this weekend." Before we knew it, we hadn't seen one another in 10 years. Then 20. Who knew that we'd be able to even keep in touch that long? And when it hit 30 years, then I knew this was beyond insanity. To know someone better than anyone else in the world without having seen them for 30 years seemed impossible. That's when she said that I should become her head of cardiology. And that's when I agreed.

_"Clair. I never thought I'd see you again."_


	5. Pizza, Paperwork, and Jude Law

Gosh, I haven't updated this story in forever. I am so extremely sorry. But here it is. Chapter 6 is already in progress, so I have no doubt it will come much, much, much faster.

And once again, I will just say that while Clair, Dr. Lapell, and Lollipop are my creations, Wilson, Lisa, and House, are not. Enjoy, nonetheless! Oh, and review!

* * *

"What's phase one?" Wilson said over his salad.

"Aha! Past." I said. I knew that before we could begin our formal investigation, we had to figure out the background information. House was at Michigan at the same time as Lisa was, so that was the first step. I knew about the infarction (oh lord, some of the worst hysterical phone calls I've ever received), but I needed to go farther back. "We have to find out what happened when they first met. At Michigan."

"Mmm. Okay, so what were you thinking?"

"Well, I think I know their whole past pretty well, except while they were at University. I don't think I got the full story on that."

"So right you are. I don't believe I know much more than you do. But, I think Dr. Lapell went to Michigan at the same time that they did."

"Ooh! He works under me, doesn't he?"

"Lapell? Sounds like a cardiologist to me."

"What luck. I'll talk to him. You take House, I'll take Lisa."

"Got it. Detective Wilson is on the job."

I flashed him a smile. He was turning out to be not only extremely nice to look at, but also a wonderful asset in my research. Thanks to him, I knew a few details that I hadn't before. Now I knew how Lisa had asked House to help her when she was trying to get pregnant, and how she had lied in court to save him. Seemed like pretty big things to me, and curiously enough she had never bothered to mention them to me. This investigation was definitely going to take some work. I was not as much of an expert on Huddy as I had previously imagined. I took a bite of my pizza and wondered what to talk about now.

"So you started working here a week ago?" Wilson said conversationally.

"Yeah, Lisa offered me this job and I thought I might as well, so I moved here."

"Where'd you move from?"

"Atlanta."

"Well, how'd you know Cuddy?"

"Oh, we grew up together."

"Oh wow. What was she like as a kid, anyways?"

"Funny. Gorgeous. Male magnet. Basically just like now, only she let loose a little bit more back then."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'm pretty much the same too. A little less sane, maybe."

I flashed him one more smile before his pocket began to beep, calling him to the cancer ward. Bald-headed party! Rock on!

"See you," I laughed, "tell me when you've talked to him."

"I'll take careful case notes," he stood with his tray, "Would a video camera in my bow tie be too much?"

"Do you generally wear a bow tie when you hang out with House?"

"Well, not unless we played poker. And generally the escapades of Greg and Lisa aren't a poker conversation topic."

"The bow tie camera is out."

"Alright, whatever you say, Nancy Drew."

"Bye Wilson."

"That's James to you. Have a great day, Clair."

I took one last bite of my pizza (an indulgence I probably could not afford, but had sprung for anyways), and sauntered out of the cafeteria. I bounded off to, once again, find my lovely friend Lisa. Buried under piles of paperwork, she sat at her desk. I whistled as I entered the room, and smiling up at me, she stood.

"I don't think I've seen this many dead trees in my entire life!" I motioned at all the files.

"Oh, yeah, well, my secretary never has been an extremely environmentally-conscious person."

"I've got a brilliant idea. How about tonight, instead of staying here until midnight-"

"I do not-" she interrupted defensively.

"Oh please, you know as well as I do that you stay here that late quite often. But how about tonight, you come over to my place at 6. We can eat and talk and watch romantic movies and cry."

"It sounds so tempting, but Clair, I have-"

"Tons of work to do, I know. I suppose I'll just watch romantic movies and cry alone. You will be seriously missing out," I joked.

"Can we watch something with Jude Law?"

"Of course! Is there anyone on the earth more attractive?" I smiled as she sighed resignedly.

"I'll be there."

"Bring the tissues," and with that I made my way out of the office, success dripping from my fingertips. I had her on a leash. On a high, I swept past Brenda, picking up a file. And you would never guess who stood there. A most puzzling person, one of the most strange characters in the story of my life.

Lollipop.

"Hey! Lollipop!" her mass of pink hair swung around as she looked at me.

"Oh, you! Wait, what's your name again?"

"Clair."

"Right. What's up?" Lollipop's round face and lime green contacts complimented her brightly colored hair quite nicely. She really and truly is quite a character, I must say. I wondered what her real name is, how horrible it had to be for her to choose to be named after a candy.

"You'll never guess what I'm doing," she licked her lips, predicting gossip that would soon flow. Her crave for the gossip, it was carnal, unharnessed, and her too, I had just on a leash at this point, "I have become a detective."

"Hm?"

"I'm going to find out what's going on with Huddy."

Lollipop smiled, and I saw all of her nurse-ish instincts racing to help me. Oh, bravo, Clarissa Abigail Flowers, it's a wonder that you didn't make it into the CIA.


	6. Common Denominator

It's been a while! But this chaper is serious stuffs so it took a while. Of course it's funny too! Yay! So, enjoy. And please review!!

My disclaimer remains... but one day...

**Chapter 6: Common Denominator**

"Red or white?" I called from the kitchen of my apartment. Things are still in a bit of disarray, but like all good friends, you can count on me to have the wine out and ready at all times. I promise, first thing unpacked when I arrived. I mean, what else would you unpack first? You arrive in a strange city to try to replicate your life in an apartment you've never been in before. The first thing you do is _not_ going to be organizing your medicine cabinet or deciding which drawer is going to be the junk drawer. The first thing you're going to do when you arrive is _have a drink_!

My apartment is a bit petite, but just perfect for all one of me. The living room, dining room, and kitchen are all basically one, although there's a bar separating the room. Opposite from the entrance to my apartment, there lies a photograph of a tiny house in Sterling Heights, Michigan, right next to a white door leading to my bedroom. The entire thing is painted strong colors. A sort of dusty green in the kitchen, a deep red throughout the living room. My bedroom is a striking blue, and my bath, a blaring white. Furniture is strewn about; I haven't yet decided where exactly I want the couch, chairs, tables, and television. Yesterday it was there and today it is here. I think if I exhaust every possibility, I'll decide what I like best eventually. Books, artwork, photographs, papers, and so on are piled in and out of boxes throughout the place. My apartment seems to reflect what my brain would look like. It is an organized chaos, and will probably not be completely set up for several months. But nonetheless, it's mine.

"Either is fine. Well, no, red," Lisa called from the couch, which was placed strategically in the very center of the room, a coffee table right in front of it, and a few feet in front of that, the TV.

"Wise choice. As your friendly neighborhood cardiologist, I would recommend one glass of red wine a day. Doctors should write prescriptions for it more often."

"I'm glad you approve, doc," she rolled her eyes as I poured a glass before her. I've been telling her that hospitals should do IV drips of red wine for heart attack patients for years. The family might look at you like you're insane when you tell them a delicious Shiraz is great-grandpa's new treatment, but hey, if it works, it works.

My cell phone began to buzz and dingle and pulling it out of my pocket, I recognized the number as my one and only partner in crime.

"Are you with the patient?" James asked.

"Yes, she's in the ICU," I replied with my best spy-like inconspicuousness.

"Found anything out about family member's deaths yet?"

"No, she's still unconscious, so I haven't been able to talk to her about medical history yet."

"Okay, tell me when you find out more," he was clearly with House since he was being spy-like as well. Lisa was looking at me with growing interest. If anyone was talking about her baby, then by god, she had to know.

"Have you checked out the other patient that I referred to you?"

"Yes, he's been transferred to the cancer ward. A mass in his heart. We're operating tonight. I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Thank you, James."

"Au revoir."

"Talk to you later."

"Wilson?" Lisa questioned eagerly as I snapped my phone shut. I nodded, and just as she was about to open her mouth to ask one of her worried questions about the poor little hospital…

"Don't even ask. Your baby will be fine without you or me or James for one evening," I scolded. She sighed resignedly. "You, my friend, should find a hobby. Crossword puzzles, drugs, I don't really care," I sipped on my wine in between sentences, "Well, maybe not crossword puzzles and drugs at the same 

time. But you need to think about something other than Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital every once in a while."

"Clair, I do have a life outside of the hospital," she replied firmly.

"All right," I smiled at her knowingly, "okay. Whatever you say." She paused, and finally gave in.

"So maybe I spend a lot of time there," she indignantly responded, "but I didn't go to medical school so that I could do crosswords while on acid."

"Speaking of school," I mused with a voice that said I had just now thought of this, "You knew House at Michigan, right?"

"Yes," she said uneasily.

"Did he stalk you back then too?"

"Clair, you just don't give up, do you?"

"I really want to know! Were you two… friends?" I saw the internal battle in her eyes. Of course, Lisa is good at keeping secrets, but never from me. After an eternity of conflict, she sighed.

"I mean, he knew who I was. And obviously I knew who he was, because everyone knew who he was."

I smiled internally. Cataloguing every word, every expression. A perfect spy. An intense study of an important case. The Mystery of Huddy. There was no doubt I would figure this out. No doubt at all. "So you _were_ friends?"



"No," she said with finality, for which she deserved a severe glare, "Okay, kind of," she spat, "I talked to him at a party once or twice. We bumped into each other every once in a while."

"I can understand why he stalks you," now I was just flat out egging her on. But no matter the cost, this was an important mission. And if I egged her on enough, she would spill it all, I knew. "I mean, there are so many common denominators between you. He is an ass; you have an ass. He doesn't care about anyone; you care about everyone. He won't commit to anything or anyone; you need commitment so much that you would marry a stranger if he asked you."

"Okay, that's not true," she defended.

"Well not a stranger maybe. But you can't tell me that if any one of your past boyfriends had asked you to marry them, no matter how brief the relationship, that you would have said no," I challenged, knowing it was true. This was mean, I knew, this brutal honesty. But it was honest. Lisa craves closeness and commitment more than anything.

"I did say no once!" she said with defiance, doing anything to prove me wrong. And yet surprising me, because HOLD UP! Someone asked her to _marry _him? And then she said _no_? As I sat in shock, she also seemed shocked that she had admitted this.

"Wait, someone has proposed to you before?" I almost yelled, half from surprise, half angry because she had never told me, "Who?" I demanded. She flinched from my yelling, and after my last question she blushed without responding. As she gazed at the floor, I realized. There had to be only one reason why she would be so embarrassed by who it was. None of her boyfriends had been guys I'd even met before. Unless… Oh. My. God. Oh! My! God! I spoke again in a surprised whisper, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because he was an ass," it was Lisa's turn to get angry, "I hated him!"

"But you loved him."



"I hated that," biting her lips as the words left them. At this point, I could no longer be a spy. I was no longer a detective on a case, I was a friend. I was Lisa's friend, and the poor woman. The pain that etched her face broke me into bits.

"Oh Lisa," I wrapped my arms around her and she leaned her head against her shoulder, "what the hell happened?"


	7. Insignificant

After a few minutes of her sobbing, I asked again. I asked her what happened. We sat on my couch, in the center of my living room, my wine forgotten, and Lisa just said it. It all spilled out.

"I met House at a party during college where he walked past me innocently and, unsurprisingly, he grabbed my ass. I gave him the full wrath of my anger, including a good slap. Very bad idea. Anywhere I saw him, he teased me and mocked me, but for some reason I loved it. I even looked for him sometimes. Well, we became friends, yeah. We were known for our verbal duels in the middle of the quad. We fought over anything and everything. With each other all the time. We became the closest that two friends could be." She paused to bite her lip, "But never more than friends.

"Until graduation. His graduation, not mine. I wasn't an undergrad anymore, but I still had a bunch of med school left. We went to a bar after graduation and he wasn't even drunk, but he went on with all this stuff about how he didn't want to lose me just because he wasn't going to be at Michigan anymore. And then, out of nowhere, he asks me to marry him. And I swear to God, he wasn't drunk and he wasn't kidding. Why the hell was he asking me to marry him when we had never been more than friends, and not only that, he was the one who set that boundary? He was an ass. Obviously I wasn't going to marry him.

"Anyways, years went by; we never saw one another after that night of graduation. I moved to Princeton a few years after graduating from med school, my first friend was one I met at the farmer's market." She took a deep breath, and I knew this would be a name I recognized, "Stacy Warner. Lawyer. I loved Princeton. Just my kind of town. And I had a friend. Well, House moved here too. I assume because no hospital director in their right mind would ever hire him and Princeton sounded just as good as any other place.

"Well, celebrating my job as Dean of Medicine, Stacy was at my house for margaritas. And guess who knocked on the door. Him. They didn't even say a word to each other. But a week later he asked me what my friend's name was and two weeks later they went on a date. At this point, I had known Stacy for over a year. And just as she moved in with him I s-said to him," these last few sentences had become slow and careful. At this point she let out a sob, "I said to him,

'_Do you want to know what this will be like 5, 10, 15 years down the road, Greg? I know her. And I know you. You'll never be happy with her. She'll get fed up with how you are and leave and then you'll be crushed. It'll be impossible to get over it. And then she'll come back, and leave, and come back, and leave until it's some sick mind game. She loves you, she hates you, she loves you, she hates you, and finally, __maybe, you'll figure out that no, it's not going to work this time around. It's not going to work, ever. You'll never be happy with her.'_"

Tears were streaming down Lisa's face by this time. I couldn't believe that there was this entire world, this entire history with him. Something I'd never known. Something full of feeling and hurt, and how could she have never told me this? Was she that embarrassed by having fallen for the biggest jerk on the planet? But that wasn't even the end of the story.

"He was always right about everything," a sob, "but for once I would be right about him instead of the other way around. Being right should have felt good. But when I turned out to be right, it was the worst feeling in the world. Because that's not it. As he turned to leave, I added, '_If it were me instead, maybe you could be happy.'_"

I couldn't help but give an audible gasp filled with empathy.

"How the hell!" she practically screamed, puffy red eyes and tear-ridden cheeks, "What right did I have to say that when I had shut him out? What right did I have to say that, when I hadn't even spoken with him in, what? Nine years? And yet," she took a deep breath to calm her anger with herself, "And yet. Who was right? If it were me, maybe he could have been happy."

"Holy…" I replied as she finished off this last sentence with a convulsing sob, "Lisa, why didn't you tell me all of this?"

"He seemed insignificant."


End file.
